


Embers to Ashes

by natureG45



Category: Fairy Tail
Genre: AU, Action/Adventure, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, This is gonna be like a mega cool au, eventual angst, minor gajevy somewhere down the line, trust me - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-09
Updated: 2017-07-21
Packaged: 2018-11-29 23:47:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11451573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/natureG45/pseuds/natureG45
Summary: “Dragons, dragons, dragons. Beasts of unimaginable power yet utterly grace in their destruction- as the stories often say. Their breath  could cleave mountains and lay waste to cities. So when humanity rose that same strength rebuilt them, as the stories often go. But stories will be stories, fantastical adventures and beasts to keep young minds fresh and cultures alive. Such a shame people always forget that stories grow from a single, grain of truth.”





	1. Human

**Author's Note:**

> Alright! First ever multi-chap fic from me! I'm super excited and ridiculously nervous about this because well, it's my first time doing something like this! I can't say i'll promise a consistent update schedule but i'll try to update every week! And if I can't i'll give you guys sneak peeks instead
> 
> This'll be quite a ride for you guys and me but I hope you'll stick around, so without any further ado let the ride begin!

* * *

**_Human- of or characteristic of people as opposed to God or animals or machines, especially in being susceptible to weaknesses; showing the better qualities of humankind, such as kindness._ **

* * *

"Mum, were all dragons bad?"

Her eyes widened, brimming with curiosity and the need for knowledge. They gleamed in the weak moonlight that slithered through drawn bedroom curtains. Her room was otherwise shadowed, which she enjoyed. Little as she be Lucy preferred it dark- there was just something about all the untouched toys and new dresses in her room that made her skin crawl. At least in the dark she couldn't spot them. Lucy wiggled up from under plush blankets, night gown bunching up as she crawled into her mother's lap.

She was desperate for an answer.

Layla hummed in amusement, smoothing her hands over Lucy's hair. "Why the sudden interest? Yesterday it was exceeds, before that the faefolk. Dragons weren't even in tonight's story Lucy."

Her curious gaze disappeared swiftly, dodging her mother's knowing one, wringing her little hands. She gnawed her bottom lip guiltily. Layla knew the answer.

"Did you take books from your father's study again?" Lucy's cheeks puffed out in silent response, her head shaking _'no_ ' when Layla prodded her cheeks back to normal.

"You know you're not supposed to be in there." She gently scolded. "He'll lose his head if he ever finds out." She shushed her daughter as she began to protest sitting up in her lap with crossed arms. Her eyes betrayed mischievousness. "But you know I won't ever say a word. Now, tell me everything you read."

If Lucy's eyes gleamed before, then there wasn't a word powerful enough to match the light shining now.

She babbled, she babbled, she babbled. Her little hands waved wildly trying to paint pictures of her stolen wisdom that Layla already knew. And when a lap wasn't enough room to articulate Lucy rolled to the bed, flapping and waving some more while the stream of moonlight grew slimmer yet brighter.

A peal of laughter tore from Lucy, infectiously grabbing her mother who made no effort to hide her unbecoming snorts. Why should she? No one could hear her- save for the few ladies in waiting who knew not the meaning of rest- and night was her time, no heavy titles to weigh her shoulders down. At night, she was just a mother with no strings attached.

Layla rubbed away weak tears that'd trickled free and shuffled a bit as Lucy squirmed her way back into her lap. "Why do you always learn so much when I'm not looking?" Lucy beamed proudly. " 'Cause you keep looking in places I'm supposed to be, but I'm not there."

"Maybe so. Or perhaps I'm not looking as hard as before, but never mind me. Where in your readings did you find evil dragons? You didn't tell me of those just now."

"Well….they weren't really evil….." Lucy said, eyebrows pulling together in thought. "It didn't say they were evil but the books didn't have anything nice to say about them."

Layla quirked a brow. "Nice? How?" "It wasn't like other books where they talked about nice people or animals. I even found some books that said nice things about other species, even if it wasn't much. But for dragons-" Lucy heaved a breath too heavy for someone so young. "All it talked about was how they were beasts that people saved. And what dragons were good for what type of work and how to keep them under control and fed. I stole one of daddy's old diaries and there was stuff in there on dragon trading."

"Dragons could talk, couldn't they mum?" She shot quickly, taking her mother aback. "Well yes, they could. But over time they lost-" "And weren't they really strong?" Lucy cut off. "Why didn't they do something when people treated them so bad? Couldn't they do something about all that?" Her distress made her words quaver and Lucy glanced up, Layla's tight lips not something she quite understood.

"Dragons were," She paused, treading around the subject carefully. The crease in her forehead deepened. What her daughter desired was a history too grim for even her strong mind to take so young. She could only tell her so much now. The future she could learn the rest.

"They were strong, yes, and they  _used_  to talk. But they spent so much time in their situations that they lost who they were." Lucy tilted her head, confused. "I don't get it."

"Hmm, well to put it simply, think of dogs." Her mother explained, gesturing to a dog plush she had yet to name keeling over on a cushion. "They came from wolves. And when they started to interact with people they changed. Some got bigger, some became smaller but they all changed because of people. But dogs chose to stay with us over all those years, dragons-they didn't have a choice."

The curious light in Lucy's eyes dimmed and it hurt her to see. "So people made dragons their dogs?" She whispered, disturbed. "Yes, and some persons out there say we made them less than that."

"But why? Why hurt dragons so much?" "I don't know Lucy. Money maybe, glory, God even. Humans are strange creatures." Layla gathered up her daughter, settling her back under the blankets where she was supposed to be. Her little hands clutched her mother night dress, not wanting to go to bed. How could she sleep when now she had so much questions to ask?

But Layla silently pulled her fingers from the crushed silk. The sliver of moonlight, watery and uneven, drew a line between them.

"Mum." Lucy began, soft- shaky even. Her mouth half-hidden by the covers. "Did you ever meet a dragon?"

Layla stiffened, her fingers jolting away slightly as something Lucy didn't understand cross her mother's face. It made her seem older, frailer. "Mum, are you ok?" "I-yes. I'm alright. I'm a little tired, that's all." She regained some of her composure, through the tightness of her eyes and soft smile.

"I did. 10 years ago, on a plantation, she was the last dragon in captivity and passed not long after." "Could she…?"

"She couldn't speak. Or maybe she could and chose not to, I'm not sure. But she- she was treated badly. Her owner spoke so little of her. However I think that maybe, she found some sort of peace in the end. Despite everything that happened to her."

Her smile faded to a ghost of what it was, barely there and watery. But she kept it there for Lucy.

"Mum what about-" Layla shushed her with a finger to her lips. "It's getting late." She said softly. "You need rest for your lessons tomorrow. Hold your curiosity until then."

"And no buts," Layla continued before her daughter could protest yet again. "You and I both know you've been falling behind in your piano lessons. We can't have that now do we?"

Lucy didn't care about piano lessons! Her fingers weren't fast enough to reach the keys in time anyways, she had more questions! About what happened to the dragons! She'd searched through their library and her few stolen books and they gave her too little to work with. She wanted to know more!

But, Lucy held back when she got a good look at the weariness in her mother's eyes. She almost didn't recognize the woman looking back at her. Perhaps she could wait for answers another day.

"Alright mum. Good Night."

"Good night Lucy." Layla drifted over to the door, her nightgown swishing around her bare feet, pulling it open with a low creak. "I hope you find the good dragons in your dreams." With a click she was gone and Lucy was left with her thoughts.

_Dragons…_

She focused on the dog plush keeling over, its smile hidden. Instinctively Lucy pushed it to its feet to face her. Its brown eyes almost seemed to thank her for the help it never asked for.

Lucy wanted to know more about them.

* * *

She spat out the strands of hair that had fallen in her mouth during the night with disgust and rolled over, curling in on herself, burrowing further into her blanket. Shampoo could make it smell like a botanical garden in Crocus after a shimmering, summer shower but it couldn't improve the taste.

Grumbling Lucy rolled over from the weak sunlight forcing its way through the curtain, covering her face with Richard- her well-loved dog plush. The only thing she carried from what used to be her life. He had an eye missing, fresh patches bright against his old black fur and what used to be a long and immaculate tail was reduced to a little stump. But Richie was still smiling despite everything. And a smile so soft could easily lull her back to sleep.

**_Beep! Beep! Beeeeep!_ **

Well so much for that.

Her hand sought out the alarm, slamming down on the sleep button to kill its incessant screaming.  _It gets to sleep when I can't_ , she thought pulling it closer to read the illuminated numbers _, there's something ironic there._ 5:30 on the dot, she missed the first alarm. And to think she only woke up because she almost choked on her hair.

Early rises, nothing she could do about it. That's what council work demanded, after 5 years Lucy should've been used to this by now. But there was something special about how that alarm dug its little beeps into her skull pulling her from the sweetest of sleeps.

Joke's on that stupid thing, today's Saturday and only 5 other people from her department occasionally arrive before 8. Lucy was always praised for her record, arriving early and staying the latest to get assignments done in advance so that's why today she's gonna take it easy.

One late day on a clean record wouldn't do her any harm. The council can wait on her after she finally snuck in some Lucy-time. They can suck it.

Untangling herself from the blanket that threatened to keep her there she shuffled to the bathroom for a hot soak, working out the kinks in her neck as she did. Those in her back weren't even worth the effort to try and get out, they'd just come back anyways.

Higher brain function kicked in later in the kitchen when she wrapped her lips around a mug of coffee, slow sips renewing her with caffeinated life on a simple chair snug in a fluffy bathrobe toe curlingly soft.

Couldn't afford to eat in the council whites. After food and the basic necessities Lucy swears that the special cleaning of her robes bleeds her dry every month to keep them in tip-top, pristine condition. And it didn't help that she worked in the archives amidst dust and ancient parchment. You'd think that the council would have some sense to change the uniforms, shake things up a little and maybe make her life easier but no. Working for the council then it's white for everyone whether you're in the office or out in the field.

The only noticeable difference were the colours of the cross on uniform shoulders to distinguish between sectors. In Lucy's case it dark green, but it's not like it helps in hiding the dirt. So no thank you, she'd rather not eat in those robes and cry at the end of the month when the price gets hiked up on her. Only a fool takes that kind of risk.

Like Gray.

_Captain Fullbuster_ , Lucy mentally corrected. Nudist extraordinaire. Not only does he ditch his far more expensive black cross robes to the dirt often (often enough for people to joke that to be a true council member is to see him naked at least once) but when he drops the cool attitude and pigs out like there's no tomorrow in his uniform, they  _never_  get messed up. Not even a speck of dirt. She seethes with rage every time he loses his pants.

Screw him to be honest.

Lucy glanced at the little clock silently ticking away on the counter.  _7:15_ When did she last get this much Lucy time? Best not think too hard on that, else the stress might creep its way back from that little corner in her mind where she shoved it. Duty calls however, with her senses at peak sharpness it was high time Lucy left and got to work. She has big things doing.

Relatively quick she went through her little morning ritual, dressed in record time to assess herself before stepping out the door.

Hair up in work approved ponytail, uniform's government standard white, boots polished with sweat and tears and heavy leather gloves, standard issue for archivists such as herself. Who knew the government was such a stickler for the dress code.

Of course she has a few extras, like the whip coiled up and attached to her belt. Every council member is to have a weapon after all. Though the army exists separately everyone had to go through the same basic combat training so if necessary, they could bulk it up in times of crisis. Thankfully nothing of the sort has transpired.

Her keys rested opposite the whip, always jangling happily despite the mood and humming softly with magic that the council tended to shove on the front lines to uphold their laws. Lucy found herself in the mirror, broke her drill sergeant's heart when she outright refused to become a captain.

Her lips quirk up at the memory, vaguely taking note of her reflection's eyes. What did mum always say? That her eyes were too old for someone so young? Never understood what that meant but now Lucy could see a little of it, in the bags forming under her eyes. She used to chase them away until a few months back. Now she lets the world see how tired she is.

Well her world consists of really 3, maybe 4 places tops if she counts the market, but she micromanages. Someone's bound to see at work or otherwise.

Lucy remembers the first time she sees the high council building, triple spires tipped gold competing to scrape the sky's edge, stretching over acres of lush grounds that put the estate she grew up to shame. Her awe was barely concealed despite what she knew of the place already, and it couldn't be helped.

Now as Lucy walks through its halls, the heavy tramp of her boots bouncing off the pristine ceiling, she rarely ever bats an eye at the architecture. Except of course when she has to traverse the endless staircases around the compound.

Maybe finally having some evidence to go with the little knowledge she had made it lose its lustre. Or perhaps bearing witness to surrounding city of Era's descent into squalor from the military displacing people to the outskirts in their need expand.

Lucy descends familiar cramped stair flights, the dank air swirling in her lungs to reach the archives' 3rd sub-level to get her day properly started. Clocking in at just a few minutes past 8 to revel in silence.

Guess she was right, no one else showed up this early. Well at least no one would get in her way. Some of her co-workers were nice but she'd rather they weren't there sometimes when she was trying to get something done. She just has more on her plate to deal with is all, what with the council adding to her workload for good noodle efforts rather than promoting Lucy to the 4th sub level, like she wants.

Sub-level 1 has data entries and logs on all council members, the army's weapon stock, new patents, funding-yada, yada, yada. Boring stuff really. And level 2's all about trade, economics and civil matters (though why they had that when they never dealt with civil matters… _civilly,_  is a mystery).

#3 is judicial. Constant filing through papers ensuring that the written law follows as was said in parliament's most recent meeting and throwing out those unable to keep up with the times. It's simple work in theory but the council keeps running through new law reforms faster than she can keep up.

But level 4, that's where she wants to be. No, that's where she  _needs_ to be.

Mythical beast captures and enslavement, inhumane treatment, trades after the slave trade abolition. It had all the council's dirty secrets locked up in the dark with only a select few able to access it at a time, knowing the code to get through its runes.

She scoffed, eyeing the list of tasks she'd scribbled the day before on her table. Like that's gonna stop Lucy. She didn't work her way through the levels to be impeded so easily. That information is going to be hers no matter the obstacle.

Flitting back and forth, Lucy lost herself amidst the shelves stretching from ceiling to floor, their shelves overflowing with parchment- some brittle and some new like the laws written on them. They poked out, tickling her face as she drifted by, brushing at strands of loose hair, coating her gloves in fine layers of dust each time she pulled one free from its confines.

They were separated, tucked at different spots on her arm for what they need. One set needs revision and their new sub-laws penned in. The others, to be shredded then burned to follow protocol.

Lucy dropped the burn pile up front with a little note scribbled on top. Someone else can chuck it in the incinerator. Although she does enjoy the occasional blaze to kill her frustrations someone else will have to do it, or she'll do it another day if they ignore it.

Slipping out the door her old notepad and pen were quickly taken up in hand to doodle, add another plot point to her ever-growing list of stories she won't have time to write and to -occasionally- jot down a few important things that might catch her eye. Other people spend their breaks outside in fresh air, she goes further underground.

A co-worker finally appears as she goes, their eyebrows raised slightly at the sight of her. Seriously they should be used to her doing this by now. Lucy sent them in with a friendly smile and a curt wave, or maybe they're surprised at seeing her take a break so early when the sun is still shining up in the sky. She blinked,  _now there's a thought_.

From dust to the dank her nose itched irritably with the ghost of a sneeze as she heads to the next landing just a single flight up from level 4, just within her sights as she leans on the railing, brushing it off before propping herself up on it.

Heavy steel doors stood proud below Lucy sealed tightly by bulky chains that wound themselves through the handles. There was an air to it, something that Lucy couldn't quite describe where such simple defenses made her feel uncomfortable even from such a distance. They were magic-cancelling, most likely, with an aftershock of sticky binding spells to keep snoopers rooted on the spot for authorities to swoop them away to prison, or interrogation. Whichever comes first really.

But before even touching that was the wall of intricate red runes, boxing in the entrance from all sides. Constantly changing and shifting, no two lines stayed the same and the overall pattern shifted daily which made it a damn near impossible for anyone to copy.

Lucy flipped open her notepad and immediately started scratching away the current pattern, gnawing her lip in concentration. Her eyes squinted at the dim red glow, making a particular rune difficult to copy. With a huff she quickly erased her mistake and fixed it.

It wasn't impossible per se, but it was a pain in the ass to do despite her blessings of photographic memory and otherworldly determination. So far the runes have cycled through roughly 68 different patterns in the few months she started this and this one right here's number 57. It's good progress though she'd rather be at 68 already.

At least during those months she'd learned something important. While it wasn't unusual to see the billowing robes of the high councillors as they descended the stairs sometimes their assistants would whisk past in their stead.

Which meant no type of body link magic involved. That's a bit off her mind for sure.

A tiny bit but a bit nonetheless.

An unusual rune popped up. It looked a bit like an overlong ' _Q_ ', or maybe it was more like an overlapping ' _OP_ '? She scribbled down both options just in case, circling them to remind herself.

Behind Lucy, heavy stomps grew louder as they drew closer. She grumbled to herself, seriously? Couldn't this go smoothly for once? She skipped a few pages back to a fantasy idea partially penned down, something about a siren mistakenly drowning her lover in desperation to be with them.

" _At least there wasn't much left. I can copy the few from memory, probably."_  She thought, busying herself with writing when the steps halted behind her. The person tutted and Lucy had to stop herself from cringing as she turned to meet a familiar icy gaze.

"Ms. Heartfilia."

"Invel." She answered.  _Asshole._

Of all the people she to find her, why him? He was like the prim, perfect little evil henchman she used to read about who sacrificed his emotions for order and a clipboard that had everything happening and soon to happen. He was always floating around the compound, overseeing everything and ticking off things from his clipboard with that frown embedded on his face. He's as busy as anyone should be working closely with the higher ups, perhaps more, yet he always found that little extra time to keep an annoyingly close eye on her.

"Your co-worker informed me that I might find you down here." His tone was clipped and his back ridiculously straight like there was a broomstick hidden in his creaseless robes. Or a stick up his ass.

"You were informed correct. Is there something I can help you with?"

He eyed her coldly behind impeccably clean glasses before dropping his gaze to his ever-handy clipboard, reading off it in monotone. "According to what I have here you are supposed to be organizing the new laws with regards to the Lands Act and the education reform. And yet here you are, doing what if I may ask?"

"Just catching up on my writings since I've already finished my tasks." Lucy replied coolly. "You're welcome to read through. I've hit a wall with it."

Invel's face remained impassive yet an eyebrow raised incredulously, a tad suspicious. "Down here?" "The calm makes it easier to think. Outside there's almost always the echo of a drill sergeant coming from somewhere."

She couldn't help the smile that twitched at the corner of her lips. "I can't stop the military for doing something I don't want now, can I?" Her pen tapped aimlessly on the railing, a light tinny sound jumping through the air.

He sniffed, she'd be lying if she didn't feel a slight lick of pride as a bit of frost formed on his lens, clouding his eyes. Someone's a little miffed.

Invel pulled them from his face, eyes still very much level with hers and an eyebrow barely twitching as he fished a cloth from his pocket to wipe them clean. He cleaned them slowly, mechanical and methodical, confirming her suspicions that this was an activity he probably did more often that necessary. Without even so much as a blink he carefully slipped them back on, pushing them up by the bridge with a gloved finger. His glasses shone with the runes' soft light, turning his pale eyes red.

"Well Ms. Heartfilia you should find that the drill sergeants are merely getting their jobs done, much unlike yourself who seems to have more free time on her hands than necessary." He said, flipping through the papers on his board to find some task to assign her to. Lucy rolled her eyes.

"I have already left the new laws pertaining to the agricultural sector's mandatory contributions to the military on your desk. However, since it seems as though you might finish that quickly I am also assigning you the Care of Magical Creatures Act as well."

" _What?!_  That act alone has over 40 new sub-laws in it, from just this month alone!" she cried in disbelief.

"Then I trust you get started right away." He turned away and began making his way back up the stairs.

"Am I at least getting overtime for this?" Lucy joked trying to ease her own anger and the urge to break his clipboard over his face. Another time but not now.

"Of course not." He snapped expectedly. "You are still working within the council's hours and given your track record you seem to have no problem working extra hours without expected pay. So good day to you, Ms. Heartfilia." He vanished up the flight, steps fading away until all was silent again.

She blew out a frustrated hiss, flopping back onto the rail.  _God_ she hated that guy.

" _And Ms. Heartfilia!"_  Lucy nearly jumped out of her skin at Invel's voice floating down at her. She glanced upwards at him peering down with a rare smirk, possibly amused at her hand clutching her chest.

"If I find you on this level again you will face  _severe_  ramifications, understand? So you best take your leave immediately." "Yes sir." She muttered. He disappeared, and she waited a few seconds. Yup, he was really gone now.

All that extra work, the one time when things seem to be going not too bad  _he_  comes along to shove her face first in it. Lucy groaned at the thought of having her head stuck in those papers for what's bound to be hours. The day she leaves this place isn't coming soon enough.

She steps towards the stairs to begin her ascent, casting a longing look at the runes cycling through a new pattern. _Soon_ , she thought,  _soon I'll have them all copied_. Lucy grips the rail tightly.

But for now, she just has to be a little more patient. The council will fall, just not today, or tomorrow. But it will.

For now, she just has to head back to the guild with the new intel.

Well, after work that is.


	2. Mage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I said I’d try to get the second chapter up in a week. It’s been two weeks.
> 
> Well i’m not perfect! I did say I wouldn’t be able to stick to a proper update schedule!
> 
> But here we are, at chapter 2 and I hope it’s to your liking! Please enjoy,leave reviews, send questions if you have them (not about updates though, that’s rude)

* * *

_**Mage- A magician or learned person; a person with magical powers**_

* * *

 

 

Lucy’s hair danced lightly in the wind, hanging loose around her shoulders. The day’s bright, she’s out of Era, nowhere near the council and the bag strapped around her, keeping her shirt from flying up as the breeze playfully tugged its hem, is filled to the brim with goodies as she heads home.

Not that crummy, lifeless apartment issued to her so that no matter what, she’d be close at hand for them to call. No, her  _real_  home in Fiore, the guild.

_Toot! Toot!_

A train sounded behind her, shooting a column of dark smoke in the air when she sets foot outside the station. It almost sounded happy. At least to her anyway.

Magnolia hadn’t changed much in the months she’s been away, it was still lively despite the military slowly but surely encroaching on surrounding cities and towns. It’s one of the few free cities left in Fiore for people with magic to live since emancipation around 40 years aback or so. Well free enough, the scorn still lives on in the minor population of those without magic and though not all laws are as enforced like anywhere else, there are still some that get in the way of people trying to live a normal life.

But either way they find a way to make a living. Lucy breezed past familiar market stalls overflowing with colourful fruits and crafts and the equally colourful heads behind them, hollering at passers-by to stop, stay a while and buy their wares. A particularly girthy woman stepped from her stall, her purple hair in tightly braided ropes, whipped around her face as she sang about her goods. How her creams could smooth even the roughest of skins and keep the smoothest ones supple.

Coloured hair, and sometimes eyes, were the sign of a person with magic. It made them stand out whether they wanted to or not, magic leaves its mark on a body. It wasn’t true for all magic users, like herself and Gray but some chose to escape the scorn and ridicule through dyes and contacts.

Lucy politely declined. Most people with magic become higglers, selling from wooden stalls or even going mobile wheeling handcarts through the too small streets. It was a good deal for them, honest work that could get them by with local authorities only ever watching them from a distance.

Though some went other ways like to work in brothels and molly houses. Lucy eyed the notorious Ruthven lane as she went. There were many other lanes like this, squeezed in the cracks of buildings that most would glance over unless, of course, they were looking for it.

Their work stood on the borderline of the law, constantly toeing it. It was illegal yes, but never quite enforced enough to stamp it out. Probably because the majority of its consumers are law enforcement but hey, who’s keeping check?

It was the closest thing Magnolia has to a seedy underbelly but it was nothing compared to the illegal fight rings in Crocus or the human trafficking in the port city of Hargeon.  Those weren’t underbellies, more like the blood running through the streets in more ways than one and being their main sources of income, they can’t be so easily stopped.

But there were others who sought to actually to use their magic instead of ignoring that part of themselves. Some dove headfirst into the military despite obstacles and for the rest, well they forged their own paths by aligning themselves with guilds.

Guilds popped up everywhere since emancipation, places where magicked people could use their abilities to do any sort of odd jobs to get by. They ranged from entertaining at children’s birthday parties to acting a disposable security during transports. No matter how big or small or demeaning the job there were always those who were willing to try and get it done for their sake or those who depended on them.

Unlike most other guilds tucked away in corners or quiet and simple in how they appear Fairy Tail was anything but that. It stood proud in Magnolia’s center, rising high above the other buildings as though they were built around it. Only Kardia Cathedral rivalled it in size yet wasn’t nearly as loud.

From the sign with its name carved in pain staking detail held up delicately strong fairies to the orange flag at the very tippy top emblazoned with the guild’s emblem for all the world to see, especially when the sun caught it just right.

To Lucy, it just screamed ‘ _here I am bitch! What’re you gonna do about it?!_ ’ which in a way, perfectly described the people inside.

She shoved open the door just in time to narrowly dodge a flying table, it cracked down the middle and landed lamely on its side, legs twisted at odd angles. Home sweet home.

There were old faces mixed with a few new ones, getting along over drinks banged on tables, their frothy tops spilling over as rowdy conversations made the air crackle to life. She hadn’t been here in months and quite frankly she missed being around the constant noise and the occasional violence.

She quickly skirted around a skirmish that soon parted when they saw her. Pretty soon she had drawn the attention of most guildmates, receiving hearty claps to the shoulders, loving hair tousles and waves from those not close enough to her. Of course, she returned most of them, which was probably why her wrist hurt so much by the time she pulled up a stool at the bar where the ever-friendly barmaid slid two drinks her way with a twinkle of mischief in her brown eyes.

“Well, well, well, looks like we have a celebrity in our midst.” Cana said, pulling a glass to her lips to take a quick swig of its contents.

“Cana.” Lucy smiled, pushing the second glass towards her friend. “You know I’m not supposed to drink on the job.” “A little midday drink never hurt anyone Lucy. Don’t you remember how much fun we had the last time?”

Of course she remembers last time, well some of it anyways. One drink turned to many, then a drinking contest, then some late-night partying on top of the tables. Then next thing she remembers she’s waking up half naked in Cana’s arms at her friend’s place. Not that Lucy minded but she’d rather not have a repeat of that in the near future.

“Maybe another time then. Anything else I can interest you in, non-alcoholic beverage, a warm meal, nice hot company?” Cana set the empty glass on the counter and reached for the other one, a flirty grin tugging at her lips.

“I might take you up on that last bit. You know if the Master’s in? Got some stuff for him to look over.” She patted the bag in her lap that looked a little too close to bursting for comfort.  She might not have finished her main job yet but there were other things at the council worth taking home in the meantime.

“Holed up in his office as usual and working himself to the bone like you. Your eyes are sinking in ya know.” Lucy waved her off, rising to her feet and fixing the bag strap. “Yeah, yeah. We can chat about my deteriorating health later and you can get me caught up on all the stuff I’ve been missing around here.”

“Can’t wait for it.” Cana flashed her another grin, bigger with a flash of teeth before turning to deal with a customer whose arms were laden with empty flagons ready to be refilled. “Just wait until you hear how Nab’s last job went!” She called.

Lucy stuck close to the bar to reach the flight of stairs at its end and began her ascent. Maybe that’s the one thing she  _didn’t_  miss about the guild. She dealt with stairs at work, she dealt with stairs to get up to her apartment, stairs at the guild were really pushing it. Especially when Master Makarov liked the view of the city so much that he put his office on the top floor. Her legs might be benefitting and looking great but her lungs were having none of it.

Though, she could _slightly_  understand why his office was up here, peering out a window at the city sprawling out below her. It looked so calm with the light of the sunset running through the streets. Almost like nothing bad ever happens on those twisting lanes. Something caught her eye directly below in the guild’s courtyard.

Huh, looks like the hospital bay expanded when she was gone, and the living quarters too.  When Lucy lived there it only about 5 rooms and now it was double, almost triple that in size cutting into the courtyard’s space. The times were different now she supposed.

Lucy rapped her knuckle on the door rather absently, too intrigued by the revelation to notice the hushed conversation inside drawing to a close. “Enter.” The Master’s voice drawled.

She pushed open the door to find the office more cramped than before. Papers about god knows what flowed out of every available crevice and where those couldn’t they were piled high in precarious stacks that constantly wobbled to and fro from the breeze blowing from the little fan, set on its lowest setting to avoid catastrophe.

She could barely see the diminutive man at his desk almost devoured by the papers coming at him from all sides. At least the other man was a bit easier to spot in his chair, his blue hair standing out amidst all the crisp white and aged yellow parchments.

“Lucy.” Jellal greeted, a soft smile creasing the red tattoo on his cheek. “It’s been too long, you’re looking-” He glanced over her features and chuckled. “- very tired.”

“Thanks for that, you can have a chat Cana about it. How’re your brothers doing?”

“Fine, Siegrain is working in Veronica after that last uprising trying to work with authorities to keep dark guilds from moving in. Mystogan, last I heard from him was somewhere over in Stella rescuing magical creatures from whatever inhumane conditions they were living in. He made a great rescue with some exceeds a while back.”

“Sounds like they’re getting stuff done.” Lucy mused. “Yes but it doesn’t quite stop people all over from thinking that I’m somehow in all these countries at the same time.”

“Well maybe you all shouldn’t have gotten the same face tattoo.” “A drunken mistake on our parts I can assure.”

“And how’s your wife?” Lucy teased. “I didn’t see her downstairs.” She definitely didn’t miss the faint dusting of red on his cheeks at the term  _‘wife’_. They’d been together for years even before they joined the guild but only recently married for about a year or so. It was always cute to see how either of them went from intimidatingly serious to soft, blushy messes when they were around each other.

“Erza’s home resting.” He replied. “She’s been pushing herself to stay on her feet with the activist party and to keep the seat she snatched up in parliament for the magic people. I left her asleep but when I get back she’ll likely be up and about, trying to get back out there.”

“That’s Erza for you, the powerhouse.” Lucy carefully stepped in to avoid slipping on any loose papers when he stood to leave. That’s when the Master finally piped up. “Aren’t you going to tell her the good news as well my boy? You’ve yet to make a proper announcement to everyone but make an exception since she hasn’t been here in a while.”

“What good news?”

It was then the light blush dropped a shade darker and Jellal’s soft smile went a bit goofy around the edges. “Erza’s………pregnant.” _Pregnant_  rested heavy on his tongue as he scratched the back of his neck. “We’ve known for about 2 weeks now.”

Her eyes lit up and she swiftly wrapped her arms around him in a hug more spine crushing than she intended it to be. “Oh Jellal that’s wonderful! Congrats! I know you two’ll be great parents that’s for sure!” Lucy released him with a smile to mirror his. Erza always wanted to be a mother.

“Thank you, Lucy,” He said beaming widely. “I think I should be going now and let you attend to your business with the master. Makarov.” He nodded towards him then retreated out the door. Well, he walked into the doorframe then out the door.

_To think that there are actually people out there who are intimidated by him_ , Lucy thought, sinking into the chair he just left.  _If only they knew. Maybe it’s the tattoo that gives off that vibe._

Makarov cleared his throat and shifted a stack of papers obstructing his view to the side. A few sheets fluttered free and landed in a growing pile by the foot of his table. He looked haggard, the shock of white hair had thinned considerable in the months she hadn’t seen him. And while the hair on his head was disappearing his usually kempt moustache (which he was very proud of) had evolved into a wild beard that curled around his lips and reached up to tickle his nose. In the words of Jellal, he looked very tired. It was enough to draw her attention from the sunken dark circles and the vein standing up in his forehead.

And that scent. Lucy sniffed, well maybe not.

“Have you been smoking again?” She inhaled again, picking up unmistakable traces of tobacco in the air.

“Um, well my child, that’s the mosquito coil burning. It’s summer and you know how fierce these magnolia mosquitos can be- I can’t afford to catch anything in my old age.”

Lucy cut his ramblings with an incredulous look. After practicing it on Gray for so many years it had been perfected, guaranteed to make most fess up their crimes in an instant.

“It was only one,” he grumbled, “Jellal didn’t seem to mind.” “Jellal doesn’t know that you shouldn’t be smoking. Especially after the last time.”

The one day Porlyusica took some time off to relax he had some sort of attack mid-puff. His throat closed up and had him clawing at it, gasping desperately for breath. The scratch marks are still there. They were lucky Porlyusica lived nearby else he’d be dead, and heaven knows how the guild would function with the loss of their favourite old man.

Since then Erza and Mirajane take turns watching his health, making sure he doesn’t chance anything.

He rubbed his temples, blowing out a weary sigh that seemed to take the last of his energies with it. He aged 10 years right before her very eyes.

“I know my child.” He said guiltily. “But it helps to keep my mind off things, off the stress you children go through because the old fools like me couldn’t finish the fight we started.”

“Master….”

“You all tell me not to worry but it cannot be helped. You’re all out there on the frontlines dealing with whatever’s thrown at you and I’m here, dealing with the paperwork to try and keep you all as safe as possible.”

Makarov swatted the papers on his desk, the crease in his forehead deepening and his eyes darkened. “Empty lawsuits that can still make it to court, scouring the continents for new clients, complaints, the council breathing down my neck to disband but to do that is to ruin lives. Fairy Tail is the prime example of legal guilds, if we disband others will too.” A cough wracked through his body though he waved off her concern, taking deep breaths before continuing.

“And don’t get me started on those radicals. Damned dark guilds giving the council all the more reason to try and shut us all down. Equality can’t be gotten through violence, but do they know that? Jellal and his guild have been hard at work but for every one that goes down at least 2 more pop up in its place.”

Lucy murmured in agreement, eyeing a particular sheet of paper with its title written in elegant cursive.  _One lawsuit against Reedus for………painting a non-magic model in the park without permission._ The court date was next week.

“Well maybe I can bring a spot of good news in all of this.” She tried hopefully, holding up her bag for him to see.

“You don’t have to worry, none of these papers in here are for you. They’re some of the new laws and their requirements regarding magical people and creatures. It’s for Erza to use as evidence in parliament.”

“That looks like a lot. The poor thing’s fit to burst.”

“Well there’s more than that, you should know me better.” Lucy said proudly. “I got another set of runes for Freed to work on.”

Makarov’s eyebrow raised slightly, his lips twisting in a small smile. “So soon my child? You aren’t overworking yourself to try and get this done?”

Lucy giggled. “You shouldn’t be one to say that, but I’m fine. A little bit of extra work isn’t anything I can’t handle. In a few more months I should have the rest for Freed to decode, then we should be in the clear for our next step. Right?”

Lucy set her bag down on the table gently and pushed it closer to Makarov. “Just keep it in there so it doesn’t get mixed up with your things.”

His smile grew a little wider at her quip. “Will do, marvellous work as always. But I can’t help but be a little worried.” “Master you’re always worried.”

“Call it a part of my work. You’ve been hard at work and I couldn’t be any prouder, but are you sure you’re alright?”

Lucy frowned. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

“Well you’re putting yourself at risk. And it’s taking a toll on your health. You’re so close to your goal, maybe you should slow down a bit. Take some rest, things won’t go to hell if you look after yourself.”

She shot him another incredulous look and he cringed slightly. “I can’t  _‘slow down’_  Master. I’m getting my job done, like you assigned me to do.”

“Yes, I know but that won’t be the case if you’re  _incapacitated_.”

“Which won’t be the case because I’ll be done before that happens.” She said hotly. “I’m an overworked, underpaid council worker, doubling as a secret stealing spy. If I slow down for even a bit I might risk blowing my cover. And that’s something none of us wants.”

Lucy crossed her arms defiantly. “What I’m trying to get is the edge we all need. And I’m going to get that edge in the next few months.”

He drummed his fingers on the desk in frustration. “Why are you so stubborn……. Can you just promise this old man that when you’ve finished your assignment, that you’ll take the break that you need?”

“I promise. But I’ll have you know that I’ve been getting in some Lucy-time recently.”

“‘ _Lucy-time’_  is not the same as getting yourself proper rest.” He tutted. “You should be aware of that.”

Ok, the Master might have a point there, but she’s not telling him that.

Lucy sank into the chair with a heavy pout on her lips, yeah she had a lot of things doing with loads of risks with every action she takes on a daily basis but she can’t take a break  _now_  of all times, not when she’s so close!

And even after that, who else is going to go back and forth from the sub-level with the restricted information? No one else knows the place as well as she does so of course she’ll be the one getting that done too. The type of rest Makarov wants her to take isn’t going to come anytime soon. But she’ll break that to him when the time comes.

“So, Cana’s managing the bar now.” She said, shifting the attention from herself. “I thought she only worked the night shift.”

“Covering for Mira,” Makarov replied, “She and her siblings are somewhere in Crocus working with Lamia Scale on a job.”

“Well I hope it’s nothing degrading.” She murmured. Mira and Lisanna were usually contracted as models and Elfman was either hired muscle or entertainment for people to laugh at his beast takeover. They weren’t particularly fond their usual jobs but they got it done.

“On the contrary, they’ve all been hired to shut down a fight ring. A particularly nasty one that popped up recently that’s been kidnapping children right off the streets.”

A shudder passed through her. When she left her father’s estate she’d stayed in Crocus for a few weeks and she lived in fear for all that time, constantly afraid that she might be snatched up to fight for life and limb for someone’s amusement. To think that not even children are safe from its dark underside now.

“It’s going to take a while so you won’t see them back at the guild anytime soon. In fact most of your guildmates won’t be around soon, big jobs like that are being taken up by them constantly.” He steepled his fingers. “They’re tired of the mediocre jobs and want to prove themselves as more than what they’re usually used as.”

“That doesn’t sound too good.” Makarov shrugged. “It’s getting them some attention and the other guilds are picking it up as well. It’s an odd sort of resistance I’ll admit, but it is working for them.”

“Well they better be careful out there, there’ve been more reports of the council cracking down on people even when they haven’t been doing anything.” It happens but it’s been worse in the past couple of weeks from the reports she copied.

“Bah! The council,” he grumbled. “They love magic and what it can do for them but not the people who have it running in their veins.”

“I know.” Lucy sighed, taking a stand. “It’s disappointing that that’s how things are, for now at least.”

I’m heading back downstairs for some flirtatious conversations and gossip, and possibly food. Maybe I can get a head start on that break you’ve been telling me about.”

“I’m sure it’ll be more of an extended Lucy-time more than anything else.”

She held back a snort. “Maybe so. You should join me, we can make it a ‘ _Makarov and Lucy time’_ because something tells me that you haven’t left up here in a while. And I’m not taking no for an answer.”

“Well if one of my children is paying for my dinner how can I say no?” He huffed out a laugh, slipping out of his seat. Only a tuft of his white hair was visible over his table. “Now let me just find my cigars……”

“ _Master_.” Lucy warned.

“It was a joke! Just a joke; I’m coming.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tbh i didn't even plan on having Jellal in this chapter but the mental image of Lucy hugging him was too darn cute and when I realized that I-a fanfic writer- had the power to write a cute moment with my brotp I could not be stopped.
> 
> I hope you guys enjoy this chapter, i know i like writing it. I dunno when chapter 3 will be up but Gray will be in it, and that's something to look forward to!

**Author's Note:**

> And there's chapter 1!
> 
> Reviews are obviously welcome even if it's just keysmash. Hopefully I'll see you guys next week!


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